


Poor Little Fox

by Cur_Non



Series: The Room Where it Happens [2]
Category: 18th & 19th Century CE RPF, 19th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: Alexander Hamilton gets mentioned a lot, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dialogue Heavy, Dom Lafayette, Dom/sub, Drinking Tea, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Play, Riding Crops, Spanking, pull ups, sub Jefferson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 07:22:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6043086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cur_Non/pseuds/Cur_Non
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jefferson was bad.  Lafayette punishes him for disobedience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poor Little Fox

Jefferson shut the door to Lafayette’s suite.

“Want to explain yourself?”

Jefferson grinned. “I had a couple hours to kill.”

“I told you not to touch him.”

“You told me not to _fuck_ him.”

“I set up the bar in the bathroom.”

Jefferson kicked off his boots and pulled off his jacket and then his shirt. “I didn’t break any rules. Technically.”

“You think you’re going to get out of this on a technicality? Thirty-five.”

“ _Thirty_ -five?”

“Fifty, then.”

Jefferson scowled at him and began the first set of pull ups.

Lafayette rubbed at a knot in his shoulder. “I’m disappointed, Jefferson,” he said. “Truly. This is no minor setback.”

“Oh please,” Jefferson grunted. “Like he’s gonna change at all. If anything he’ll just flock to you for comfort.”

Lafayette paced the room, his arms folded behind him. “But that’s just it, Jefferson. He doesn’t know the rules of the game. You can’t just break him like that.”

Jefferson finished the first set. “You were going to break him soon anyway.”

“No breaks.”

He rolled his eyes and started the next set.

“And who are you to say what I am or am not going to do?”

“You’re right,” Jefferson said. “I’m sorry.”

“Try to sound a little more genuine,” Lafayette snapped. “I’m serious. You’re grinning like a crocodile.”

“It was fun.”

“Maybe you get a little more apologetic or I won’t give you the punishment you really _do_ deserve.”

Jefferson stopped his pull ups mid set and hung from the bar a moment, concern flickering in his eyes.

“That’s better,” Lafayette said darkly. He got up and poured himself a finger of wine. Without turning around he said, “Did I say you could stop?”

Jefferson hurried to finish his set. He was tiring and only nearing halfway, but things really _would_ get bad for him if he stopped without permission.

Lafayette took off his suit jacket and hung it on the rack. He rolled his neck from side to side. The flight had not agreed with him. He was too tall—though not quite as tall as Jefferson—and though he was slim, there just wasn’t enough room.

He took another sip of wine—white, not red—and listened with pleasure to Jefferson, struggling to complete even half of his command.

“You may stop,” Lafayette said, exactly as Jefferson reached thirty and on Lafayette’s word he dropped, panting, to the floor. Lafayette didn’t bother turning around. “Don’t think you are off the hook, though. I’m expecting you to finish.”

“Yes sir," Jefferson said. He was still lying on the ground.

“Excuse me?”

“Thank you,” Jefferson said, louder this time. “Marquis.”

Lafayette was rolling up his shirtsleeves. “Any requests? Not that you deserve them.”

Jefferson had rolled on his back and was still panting, but he laughed. “Just give me what I deserve.”

“Nothing, then.”

Jefferson rolled onto his stomach and pouted at Lafayette. “Oh, but I was _so bad_.”

“Come here.”

Jefferson scrambled to his feet, and he knelt by the Marquis.

“On your hands and knees.”

“Yes, Marquis.”

He had barely got into position before he heard the _swish_ of a riding crop he either hadn’t seen or hadn’t noticed, and Lafayette hit him, a little harder than usual. The sudden sting made him yelp.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s what I thought.” Lafayette struck him once more and returned the implement to the table. “Get up.”

Jefferson stood, his cheeks flushed red.

“Undress.”

Jefferson pulled off his jeans and socks, and tucked his fingers into his briefs to pull them down as well, but Lafayette stopped him.

“Leave them on.”

Jefferson raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing.

“The desk.”

He crossed the room and braced himself against the polished hardwood.

Lafayette folded his clothes neatly on the table.

“I’m very disappointed, Jefferson,” he said again, picking up the riding crop and coming up close behind him. “You did what I _specifically_ asked you not to.”

Jefferson opened his mouth like he was going to deny it, but he swallowed the thought and just nodded. “Yes, Marquis.”

“You’re going to count.”

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Five.”

“Ten?”

“Yes, Marquis.” The next sting came before he had finished saying the word. “One—” he said in surprise.

“I hope you understand how _distressed_ this whole thing makes me,” Lafayette said.

“Two—“

“I don’t like being disregarded. I don’t _appreciate_ disobedience.”

“Three. Four—“ Jefferson was choking out the words now, eyes wet, arms shaking, and that sting didn’t fade, just built upon itself—

“And you haven’t even apologized—“

“I’m sorry. Five— _Sorry_ —”

“Better. Do you want me to stop?”

“No. Please—“

“Show me.”

Jefferson, tears streaking his face and guilty, tugged the black fabric of his briefs down and Lafayette appraised his handiwork.

“Five more?”

“Please.”

He did three in quick succession, before Jefferson could count them. Jefferson sucked in a shuddering breath.

“Nine,” Lafayette said, taking over the count. “Ten.” The hiss of the riding crop hung in the air after the final strike, and then it was quiet except for Jefferson, shoulders heaving as he panted against the desk.

“Poor little bitch,” Lafayette said softly, eyeing the red welts on Jefferson’s backside. “Step out of those and come here.” He set the crop back on the table and turned one of the chairs out. “Over my lap.”

Jefferson took a deep breath and obeyed him, and Lafayette rubbed his back. “Did I punish you enough?”

“For now.”

“Good.” Lafayette traced the freckles on his shoulder. “You get too much sun in Virginia. You should be more careful.”

“Mm—“ Jefferson said, clearly not listening. He yelped when Lafayette swatted him, more out of surprise than of pain, although there was a fresh burst of the latter as his body remembered the punishment he’d just endured.

“You should pay attention when I talk to you,” Lafayette admonished. “Get up. You can lie on the bed if you still can’t stand.”

“Sorry,” Jefferson said, standing weakly. “I was distracted.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“I know.”

Lafayette crossed the room again and turned on the electric kettle.

“Tea, Jefferson?”

“Yes, Marquis.”

“Good, you can finish it then.” He went back to his chair and left Jefferson, still naked, to tend to the kettle. “I take it black,” he reminded him. “I hope you won’t over steep it.”

“No, Marquis.”

“Mind you don’t use the hotel china,” Lafayette added as he examined the crop he’d used earlier. “Use the ones I brought.”

“Of course.”

Jefferson brought Lafayette his tea, a dark cup brewed with loose leaves—Lafayette despised poor quality in both people and drink—and stood to the side for further instruction.

“Put those back on,” Lafayette said, gesturing to the briefs Jefferson had discarded by the desk. “—And go finish your set. You can have tea when you’re done.”

Jefferson let out a low growl of frustration, but did as he was told. Lafayette much preferred obedience over obstinacy.

Lafayette crossed his legs and sipped his tea.

“I would very much like to put this _problem_ to rest,” Lafayette said, only occasionally glancing over to where Jefferson was straining against the bar. “So I’m coming up with what I think will be suitable punishment for what a _terrible_ creature you’ve been.”

He took another sip of tea and got up, running a hand up over Jefferson’s back. Jefferson stopped.

“How many do you have left?” Lafayette whispered in his ear.

“Seven,” Jefferson replied.

“Continue.”

Jefferson did, with the added difficulty of Lafayette standing so close to him. He could smell his cologne, spicy and sweet, and somehow cold, if cold was really something one could smell. It got under his skin, that scent.

Lafayette must have been counting, too, because when Jefferson finished the last one he said “Stay,” before he could let go of the bar. “You may stand, but stay.”

Jefferson stood, grateful for the respite, and got to his feet, his muscles aching with exhaustion.

Lafayette put one hand on his chest and the other over his briefs.

“Have I punished you enough?”

“Yes,” he said weakly.

“My poor little fox,” Lafayette purred, rubbing at the sensitive head of his cock. “So neglected. After all that work.”

“Yes,” Jefferson said again, his voice strained as heat pooled in his groin.

Lafayette moved his hand from his chest to cup his ass, and Jefferson let out a little moan as a fresh wave of pain washed over him and Lafayette worked his rapidly hardening cock. He trembled and was glad that he was still holding the bar to keep his knees from buckling.

“So, this is what I want you to do,” Lafayette said, his voice so low it was practically a whisper as he stroked Jefferson’s length.

“You bring me Hamilton. I’ll let you arrange—“ He paused, toying with the wet spot starting to show through the fabric, and Jefferson groaned. “—The menu, the venue, the _seating_. But I want him _unspoiled_. Is that very clear? I don’t want there to be _any_ confusion.” For each emphasized word he pressed a little harder against Jefferson’s slit.

Jefferson could only nod.

“Well?”

“Yes, Marquis,” he managed to get out, his voice cracking slightly on the words, “I’ll do it.”

“Good.” Lafayette said in his usual voice. He let go of Jefferson and stepped back. “Cold shower. Now.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“But—“

Lafayette tilted his head, eyebrows raised, mouth a thin line.

Jefferson let his breath out in a hiss, defeated.

“You fix things with Hamilton,” Lafayette said once Jefferson was under the water. He eyed Jefferson’s body with interest. “Bring him to me tomorrow. And then maybe we’ll talk about rewarding you.” He turned to leave. “Oh, I nearly forgot—don’t forget you still have tea. Come out and finish it when you’re done.”

Jefferson, shivering as the water hit him, only scowled.

**Author's Note:**

> So I guess I have to write a third one now.


End file.
